


Home for the Holidays

by reciprocityfic



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 07:38:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17076134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reciprocityfic/pseuds/reciprocityfic
Summary: When a snowstorm cancels her flight home, college student Rick Grimes invites his dormmate Michonne to spend Christmas with him and his family.  Part of The Richonne Writing Network's 2018 Holiday Series.





	Home for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, loves! Here's a little fic I wrote for The Richonne Writing Network's 2018 Holiday Series. I hope you enjoy it!

**home for the holidays**

 

It was going to be a white Christmas in Georgia this year.

Of that, Rick was certain, as he stared out the window of his dorm and watched snowflakes swirl incessantly in frenzied patterns, leaving a thick blanket of heavy snow on top of everything in sight.  He watched the scene outside for a moment more and then sighed, leaning back in his desk chair and pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. His Microbiology textbook was open on the desk in front of him, but hadn’t been touched for twenty minutes, at least.

Having an exam the second-to-last day of finals week _sucked._  Your friends were all gone, everything on campus was quiet and abandoned, and there was nothing to do except sit in your cold, dim dorm room and go over chapters and slides and homework and notes until you thought your brain was going to short-circuit.

He needed some kind of study break if he had any hopes of being productive for the rest of the evening, so he got up and grabbed his pair of slippers so he could take a walk to the snack machine at the end of the hall.

He was shuffling along mindlessly when a muffled sound caught his attention, standing out in the otherwise silent corridor.  He paused, and looked to his left. His heart stopped when he saw which room he’d stopped beside.

It was Michonne Durand’s room.  He immediately grew nervous.

It was stupid, he knew.  They were _friends_ .  Good ones, at that.  They lived in the same building - on the _same floor_ \- and had Rhetorical Analysis together this semester, so they ran into each other almost constantly.  On top of that, their best friends were dating each other. Rick _knew_ Michonne, and it was ridiculous that encounters with her gave him enough anxiety for his heart to race and palms to begin to sweat.

It’s just, he had a _crush_ on Michonne Durand.  A _huge-ass_ crush.  She was beautiful, and smart, and kind, and funny, and thoughtful, and he was pretty sure he fell a little more in love with her every time she so much as smiled in his general direction.

He heard more sound come from inside her room, and he crept closer to her cracked-open door, to see if he could make out what it was.  He frowned when he realized that it almost sounded like someone was crying in there. He grew concerned, and any thoughts of continuing on down the hall pretending he didn’t hear anything flew out of his mind.

Tentatively, he knocked.  The door creaked open a tiny bit more.

“Michonne?” he called.  “Everything okay in there?”

“Coming!” her voice chimed.

She was trying to sound sincere, he could tell, but he still picked up on the fake enthusiasm in her tone.

He heard a few more shaky breaths and a sniffle or two before those noises were replaced with the sound of socked feet padding on the hardwood floors of their dorm rooms.  Her door opened, and there she stood, in gray sweatpants, a red t-shirt, and purple polka-dotted socks, her locs pulled up into a high ponytail, glasses on her nose, and not a stitch of makeup on her face.  His heart leaped as he looked at her, and he felt his cheeks begin to flush with warmth.

Yeah, he had a huge-ass, desperate crush on Michonne Durand.

There was no moisture from tears left on her face, but her eyes were still slightly red and puffy.  She had, indeed, been crying. The dullness of her expression served to emphasize that fact.

“Hey, Rick,” she greeted glumly.

He cleared his throat, to make sure his voice didn’t squeak or anything like an idiot when he started to speak.

“Hey,” he answered.  “I was, uh...just on my way to get a bag of chips at the machine, and I thought I heard something from in here.  I just wanted to, uh, make sure you were alright.”

“Oh, God,” she groaned, resting her forehead against the doorframe and closing her eyes.  “I’m a frickin’ mess.” She sighed heavily, and then lifted her head to look at him again, her eyes full of apology.  “I didn’t disturb your studying, did I? I know you have a final tomorrow.”

“No, no!” he assured her quickly.  “Like I said, I was just going to get a snack and heard somethin’.”

“Good,” she breathed.  “Sorry anyways, though.”

“Nah, it was nothin’.”

A silence settled over them.  They stood in front of each other awkwardly, Michonne biting her lip and Rick shifting back and forth on his feet.

“So,” Rick started.  “Is everything okay?”

Michonne didn’t answer right away, and his stomach began to twist in embarrassment.  Maybe whatever was going on was private, and she didn’t _want_ to tell him.  He had no right to know the inner-workings of her life.

Just before he was able to start apologizing profusely, she spoke.

“Not really, honestly.  I was supposed to go home to New York today, but my flight got cancelled because of the snowstorm.  And everything’s so busy with people traveling for the holidays, that I can’t find another flight until the day after Christmas.”

Her eyes were full of unshed tears by the time she was done explaining.  He felt awful for making her talk about it again.

“I know it’s stupid to cry about it,” she mumbled, as she wiped at her eyes.  “But I love Christmas, and it’s really big in my family. This will be the first one I spend away from home.  Instead, I’ll be stuck _here_ .  In a frickin’ _dorm room_.”

“You can come home with me.”

The offer was out of his mouth before he even consciously thought about making it.  He tried to hide the way his eyes widened as surprise at what he’d said filled him. He immediately began to feel stupid when the words started to register - why would this wonderful, perfect person want to go home with _him_ for her favorite holiday?  Wise up, Grimes.

He was seconds away from stammering out another apology, when he noticed that her expression looked a little brighter than it had a couple minutes ago.

“Really?” she whispered.

He swore that he could see a glint of hopefulness in her eyes, and it gave him courage to elaborate on his proposal.

“Uh, yeah.  I have a final tomorrow afternoon, and then my parents are coming to pick me up.  I only live an hour away. You can stay in my brother’s old room. My mom’s had _major_ empty nest syndrome since my brother moved to Portland a few years ago for work, and it gets really bad around the holidays.  She’d love to have you, I guarantee it. And my dad wouldn’t mind. Some of my aunts and uncles and cousins come over on Christmas Day, so you could just hang out with us.  And then I could drive you to the airport the next day.”

She was still staring at him when he was finished explaining himself.  His heart pounded in anticipation as he waited for her to answer.

“Okay,” she finally said.

A shy grin ticked up the corner of her mouth.  Butterflies swarmed in his belly.

“Okay,” he repeated back to her.

A full-blown smile appeared on her face, then, and before he knew what was happening, she launched herself at him, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

“Thank you so much, Rick,” she murmured into his shirt.

He smiled softly, and returned her embrace.

This was already shaping up to be his best Christmas ever.

 

* * *

 

Michonne Durand absolutely _adored_ Christmas.

That fact was as clear as day to Rick as soon as he saw the expression of wonder on her face as they pulled up to his house on the 23rd of December.  His dad always went all-out with their outdoor Christmas lights, and this year was no different. Michonne’s appreciation of his work was evident.

“You did all this yourself?” she asked his father, as she gaped at the display of hundreds of white, red, and green shining lights.

“Rick helped me,” his father told her, smiling amusedly at her amazement.  “Father-son tradition. Do it together every year the day after Thanksgiving.”

“You helped put this up?” she asked, snapping her head towards him.

“Don’t act so surprised,” Rick said, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at her childlike perusal of the outside of his house.  “You’re gonna hurt my feelings.”

He got out of the car, and went around to the back to help his dad carry in his and Michonne’s bags.  When he closed the trunk, she had finally gotten out of the car, but was still gazing at the lights, mouth open and eyes wide.

“Y’know, Michonne,” he began, coming to stand next to her, “it’s just Christmas lights.”

“Stop making fun of me,” she scoffed, playfully elbowing him in the side.  “Besides, I live in an apartment in the city. We don’t get to put up Christmas lights.  Not like this, at least.”

He watched her as she stared.  He couldn’t help it. She looked so beautiful, standing in the snow, white snowflakes falling into her hair, her skin illuminated by the different colored lights as the sun began to set for the day.

Eventually, she felt his eyes on her, and she turned to look at him.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” he answered, looking away, suddenly thankful for the twilight settling over them, ensuring that she wouldn’t see the blush starting to color his cheeks.  “It’s kinda sweet, is all. You being all fascinated with this and stuff.”

“Shut up,” she told him.

She elbowed him again, but when he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bashful smile playing on her lips.

 

* * *

 

December 24th - Christmas Eve - was always a busy day in the Grimes’ household.  There were cookies to be baked, presents to be wrapped, Christmas movies to be watched, last-minute decorations to be put on the tree, along with several other activities that made every hour filled to the brim with Christmas joy and spirit.

And as the day wore on, Rick watched Michonne participate in each one of them eagerly, fitting in like she had been here for the holidays her entire life.

He watched her griddle pumpkin pancakes with his mother as they prepared the family’s annual Christmas Eve breakfast.  He watched as she showed off her _insanely_ perfect gift-wrapping skills when the two of them finished packaging presents for various relatives of Rick’s, and saw the satisfied smirk on her face after he complimented her accordingly.  He watched her move around the kitchen as she, he, and his mother baked gingerbread, humming along to the Christmas songs playing through his mom’s phone.

He was standing next to Michonne, stirring together batter while she measured out ingredients for the next batch when the song changed.  Rick heard her gasp next to him.

“I love this song!”

_The snow’s coming down_  
_I’m watching it fall_  
_Lots of people around_  
_Baby, please come home_

He grinned while he mixed, listening to her sing along to Darlene Love’s voice without looking up from his task.  She had a lovely voice, he thought - low, smooth, and sweet - and was about to tell her so, but then she spoke.

“My cousin Sasha and I always sing this together for my family’s annual Christmas karaoke.”

“Christmas karaoke?”  He raised his eyebrows.  “That sounds...interesting.”

“It is,” she said, and then leaned towards him and whispered playfully, like she was telling him something scandalous that no one else was supposed to hear, “especially when you do it at the end of the night, after everyone’s finished off the wine.”

“Oh yeah?” he questioned quietly, sliding over to her slightly and bending his head down closer, playing along with her.

“Let’s just say that I’ve had more than a few aunts and uncles embarrassed to show their faces at the next family gathering.”

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, and then they laughed at their little back-and-forth before going back to their separate tasks.

“Christmas with your family sounds fun,” he remarked, glancing over and finding her carefully leveling off a measuring cup full of flour.

“It really is.”

She smiled as she said it, but he could hear the twinge of sadness in her voice.

“You missin’ them?” he asked.

“I am,” she confirmed.  “But surprisingly, not as much as I thought I would.  Or maybe feared I would. I guess I have you to thank for that, huh?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” he told her with a shake of his head, turning himself so he was facing her.  “No one should be alone on Christmas. And I know - “

He paused when she looked up at him.  He was suddenly distracted - and not even by her breathtakingly gorgeous face, like he usually was.  Instead, he couldn’t stop looking at the dash of flour smeared across the bridge of her nose. It sat there, unbeknownst to her, painting a streak of dusty white against her deep mahogany skin.

And he smiled.  He couldn’t help it.  It was like he’d had some romantic, holiday-themed fever dream and someone had gotten inside his head and made it real.  Michonne looked so _cute_ , staring up at him cluelessly with her big, beautiful eyes, standing in his kitchen with baking ingredients on her face, in the middle of humming along to Christmas songs and preparing cookie batter alongside him.

Her face scrunched up in confusion under his scrutinizing gaze, and she tilted her head to the side, silently asking him why he was suddenly frozen and speechless.

In response, he lifted his hand and stuck out his right index finger.  He moved rapidly, before he could lose his nerve. Her eyes widened as his finger got closer and closer, until they crossed watching the tip of his finger gently land on her nose and then swipe down the slope of it, removing the flour from her warm, soft skin.

Her eyes were still wide when he pulled away, and he started to worry he’d offended her somehow.  Quickly, he held up his finger, showing her the remnants of the powdery substance.

“You had some, uh, flour on...your nose, but I, uh...got it,” he mumbled awkwardly.

He went to apologize - a habit whenever he was around her - but then, her eyes warmed.

“Thank you,” she breathed, and the words were nearly inaudible.  She still seemed slightly shaken, but she gave him a small smile.

They kept staring at each other, each one hyper-aware of the other, sensing something new flowing between them, something taking deeper root every second they were near each other.

But then, the sound of jingle bells filled the room as the opening of _Sleigh Ride_ began to play, and the moment was lost.  They both gave each other bashful half-grins, and then went to work on their assigned jobs in the baking process.

Afterwards, he watched as she gave her full attention to the television screen as _How the Grinch Stole Christmas!_ played out in front of them, sitting next to him on the couch while they watched the movie with his parents.  And he watched her put candy canes, snowflakes, and a final string of lights on the tree as the four of them added some finishing touches before the big day.

And every moment Rick watched Michonne only endeared her to him even more.  Each of her smiles, the twinkling that seemed to be ever-present in her eyes, her excitement and boundless energy as they moved from activity to activity, filled him with an adoration for the girl in front of him until he was absolutely positive that he would never be rid of his constantly-growing crush on Michonne Durand.

He reached into a box to grab another snowflake ornament, when his father tapped him on the shoulder and pulled him aside.

“So, kid.  This Michonne, she’s your friend?”

Rick’s brow furrowed as he stared at the older man.  He thought the answer to that question should’ve been pretty apparent.

“Uh, yeah, Dad,” Rick said slowly.  “Michonne’s my friend.”

His father hummed, and then bent down to pick up the coffee mug that sat on the floor, and brought it to his lips.

“Not a little more than friends?” he asked, speaking over the rim of his cup.

Rick groaned, and turned away quickly, praying that it was too dim in the room for his father to see his face flush.

“ _Dad_.  She’s my _friend_.”

He left out the part about his secret wish that she would become something much more than that.

“Are you sure?  Because sometimes I see you lookin’ at her -”

“ _Dad_!” he exclaimed, glancing over to make sure he didn’t disturb Michonne and his mother before turning back to his father, staring at him with stern eyes.

“Can we just get back to decorating?   _Please_?” he mumbled.

His dad relented, holding up his free hand in surrender and taking a step back.

“Alright, alright.  Just sayin’.”

Rick sighed heavily before turning around, looking at the snowflake still in his hand and walking towards the tree.  He hung it on a branch, and was about to turn back towards the box when Michonne and his mother caught his eye. They both had candy canes in their hands, and were laughing at something.  Michonne’s eyes were squinted closed, her nose scrunched up in amusement, and her shoulders shaking with her choppy breaths.

And he couldn’t help the grin that spread out over his face, or the way his heart leaped, as he once again watched her.

 

* * *

 

December 25th came the next day as it always does - with a certain magic that only Christmas can provide.  It started quietly, with him coming downstairs and walking into the kitchen to find Michonne already awake, standing and talking about something with his parents that was making her smile.  When they heard his steps on the hardwood floor, the three of them turned their heads towards the noise, and saw him standing there, hair disheveled and still wiping the sleep from his eyes.  His mother put the mug of traditional Christmas morning hot chocolate she was holding on the counter and walked towards him, holding her arms out.

“Merry Christmas, Rick,” she greeted as she wrapped him in an embrace and kissed his forehead.

He pulled away and found his dad standing just behind them, and when they made eye contact, his dad reached out and put his hand on Rick's shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Yeah.  Merry Christmas, son.”

“Merry Christmas, guys,” he answered, trying to surreptitiously glance at Michonne and finding her watching the scene in front of her with a soft smile on her face.  He smiled back, and her expression brightened even more.

“Well, I guess it's time to open gifts!” his mother announced, clapping her hands together and grabbing on to his dad's arm to pull him towards the living room.  “We have to get a move on if we want to get everything done before the family gets here. Rick, the hot chocolate is in the pot on the stove if you want to grab some!” she called over her shoulder as she left the room with his father in tow.

He made his way across the room, to where Michonne was standing, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed across her chest, a smile still on her face.

“Getting some hot chocolate?” she asked him.

“Nah.  I'll get some after presents,” he answered, leaning next to her and mirroring her posture as he too crossed his arms in front of him.  “Just wanted to say Merry Christmas to you without my parents analyzing my every move.”

“Did one of them ask you if we were secretly dating, too?”

“Oh my God,” he groaned, running a hand over his face.  “Which one of them asked you?”

“Your mom.  You?”

“Dad.  God, I'm so sorry.  I told them we were just friends when I let them know you were coming, I promise.”

“It's okay, Rick,” she assured him, bumping him gently with her hip.  “It was actually kind of cute. I mean, your mom has just been cute in general.  She's been so friendly and open and sweet.”

“I told you, she's empty-nesting hardcore,” he joked, and when she didn't answer, he looked over and found her staring straight ahead, a soft, contemplative smile on her lips.

“I appreciate it, you know.  How you guys have taken me in the past couple of days.  How you've made it a point to make me feel welcome, and include me in everything.  Trying to make me feel at home.”

She stepped out, and then turned so she was standing right in front of him, staring up at him with wide, deep brown eyes that held a sentimentality that made his heart speed up in his chest.

“If it wasn't for you, I'd be sitting in a dorm room right now, all alone, and probably crying my eyes out missing home so much.  You saved my Christmas, Rick. You took what I thought was going to be the worst holiday of my life, and made it into one I'm enjoying more than I ever imagined I would.  I can't thank you enough. You don't know how much this all means to me.”

She paused, and they gazed at each other, neither one of them daring to break the eye contact between them.  He felt his face heating up again, but for the first time, he didn't try to hide it from her. Instead, he took time to study her perfect face and her sincere expression, her eyes shining as she stared up at him, and her full lips parted slightly.  His stomach was doing somersaults on loop.

He opened his mouth to say something - he didn't know _what_ , but then again, opening his mouth without thinking was how he got himself into this situation in the first place, and brought him to this moment, so he'd decided to just go with it - but before he could, his mother's voice sounded from the other room.

“You kids coming?  I was serious when I said we had to hurry up if we want to be ready when everyone comes over!”

Rick and Michonne looked away from each other abruptly, and both let out a nervous laugh, as Rick inwardly cursed his mother's awful timing.  But before he could get too upset, he felt Michonne reach out and grab his hand. He inhaled sharply, and then glanced at her, and found her staring back at him with a shy smile on her face.

“Better get in there, yeah?” she murmured.  “Before she comes looking for us.”

He tried to hide a goofy grin from taking over his face as he looked at their hands resting together, but failed as his lips turned up and cheeks lifted.  He turned his hand in her grasp and twined their fingers together, and she squeezed his palm in response.

“Yeah,” he whispered.  “We better get in there.”

She nodded, and pulled him away from the counter, keeping their hands clasped together and tucking herself into his side as they walked towards the living room.

 

* * *

 

The 26th of December brought with it Michonne's flight to New York, and her departure from the Grimes’ abode.  Rick hated to let her go, especially after the previous day. After their morning encounter in the kitchen, she became a permanent fixture beside him for the remainder of the day, fitting in with his family and their celebration like she was always meant to be there.

He worried as he walked her to her gate.  What was this thing that had sprung up between them?  Did it only exist over these few, short days, or would it be there when they returned to school as well?  He knew that _he_ was invested in it, and wanted to keep it going, but he hadn't had a chance (or the courage) to bring it up to her yet, with their tiring day yesterday and the anxious energy that swallowed the car ride to the airport.

And now, she stood before him, her suitcase on the ground by her feet.  She was looking up at him with uncertainty, and he could detect a hint of nervousness in her eyes.

She spoke first.

“Well, this is me.”

“Yep,” he answered, and he could've kicked himself over his lame response.  “This is you.”

Silence overtook them once again.  He reached his arm up to scratch the back of his head, and desperately searched for words that refused to come.

“Look, Michonne -”

 “Rick, I -”

They both started speaking at the same time, each one cutting the other off, and they laughed together awkwardly before looking away from each other.  She didn't start talking again right away, so he took a deep breath and forged ahead.

“Michonne, you've thanked me so much for inviting you to come stay with us, but I really wanna thank _you_ for agreeing to come over in the first place.  I've had such a good time with you being here, and gettin’ to know you more, and honestly?  This has been the best Christmas I've had in a while, and I just... really love spending time with you, and bein’ around you -”

And before he could finish, she kissed him.

She kissed him _hard,_ and he immediately wrapped his arms around her, tilting his head so he could kiss her back more easily.  He held her against him, like he'd wanted to for so long, and opened his mouth as she ran her tongue along his bottom lip.  He didn't know how long they stood there, lost in each other, but eventually they heard someone clear their throat loudly behind them.  They jumped, and turned to find a woman staring at them with narrowed eyes. She pushed past them with a huff, and they looked at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing, Rick pulling Michonne back towards him and resting his forehead against hers.

Once their laughter ceased, Michonne pulled back to stare at him with happy eyes.

“I really do have to go, though.”

Rick pouted playfully, and she laughed again.

“Call me when you get to New York?” he asked.

“Promise,” she assured him, and then took her phone out of her pocket to look at the time.  She let out a long breath, and then put her phone away and leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist just as she had the day he'd invited her to stay with him for Christmas.

“I'm gonna miss you, Grimes,” she told him, and he rested his cheek on the top of her head.

He didn't want to let her go, but he knew he had to.  They separated, and Michonne bent down to grab her suitcase.  Before she left, she stood on her tiptoes and placed her lips at his ear.

“I can't wait to see you when we get back from break,” she whispered to him, and then pulled back to kiss him again - once on the cheek, and then once more on the lips.

Without another word, she turned and walked away from him, and he helplessly watched her, mouth open, eyes wide, mind and body still reeling from her parting kiss.  He already missed her. Before she disappeared from view, she turned her head over her shoulder, and smiled brilliantly at him, her beautiful face lighting up with her joy.  The sight stole his breath, and he smiled back, at the woman who had, in a flash full of wonder and Christmas magic, become one of the best, most important parts of his life.

Yeah, he decided.  This had definitely been his best Christmas ever.  


**Author's Note:**

> The song Michonne sings is Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Darlene Love, and they're watching the animated version of How The Grinch Stole Christmas.
> 
> There you have it, dears! Let me know what you thought, and once again, Merry Christmas! I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, whether you celebrate or not.
> 
> xoxo,  
> Rebekah


End file.
